


Dress the salad, and done!

by Darksilversilhouette



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Friendship, Gen, Genesis Rhapsodos Does What Genesis Rhapsodos Wants, Genesis Rhapsodos being somewhat wacky, Maybe Sephiroth/Genesis if you squint really hard, Not Beta Read, Other, fluff?, really hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24081703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksilversilhouette/pseuds/Darksilversilhouette
Summary: Genesis Rhapsodos shouldn't be allowed to take off days, or in other words, the shenanigans Genesis Rhapsodos gets up to when he has too much time on his hands...or not enough.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Dress the salad, and done!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [koakuma_tsuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koakuma_tsuri/gifts).



> For Koakuma Tsuri:
> 
> First of all, I want to thank you for all the stories you've shared with all of us, and the time, effort, and emotions you've put into them. They've accompanied me throughout the years, been a source of inspiration, joy, and lots of other emotions for me as I've read them. Not once, but multiple times, especially when there were no more Sephesis stories to read on FFnet and here on AO3. In my opinion, you are definitely among the pantheon of authors whom the Sephesis and the FFVII fandoms should be known for. When I got the email for the newest work you posted, at first I wanted to give you one of the stories I'd already written because I'd been stuck in a rut for quite some time. But finding that none of the could be a good enough gift, it motivated me to push past my writer's block, and I spared no time in writing this piece as a very insignificant gift for you, to both thank you for being the amazing person you are, and to welcome you back to the community. 
> 
> So, thank you very much, and welcome back! 
> 
> I hope you along with all the other readers enjoy reading this! 
> 
> P.S. I also want to apologize that it took me as long as it did to compose, and also for the typos and mistakes.

_ *Beep* _

Bleary cerulean eyes slowly opened in order to track the source of the muted signal.

———24 hours earlier———

**_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEE!_ **

Grunting, the redhead fumbled blearily with his PHS to turn off the horrendous alarm.

If someone ever claimed that everyone in the Shinra headquarters knew that Genesis Rhapsodos was  _ not _ a morning person, they wouldn’t be exaggerating.

As it was, however, this was–by far–the latest hour the redheaded First had woken up in the morning since what seemed like forever. Making an inchoate, yet content sound, the auburn-haired Soldier turned around in his cocoon of down comforter, still not ready to give up the last precious moments of sleep. Even with his eyes closed, he could almost see the faint impression of sun’s golden rays that flitted through the slanted shutters; they danced along his coppery lashes, beckoning his fiery-wreathed lids to nictitate. 

It was a pleasant feeling, already lighting up his mood which would be suffering otherwise if he’d woken up at the ungodly hours he did almost everyday. But today was different.

Today, he didn’t have to worry about the shitload of paperwork that was accumulating by the second on his desk; he didn’t have to worry about the blithering idiots–AKA green initiates–who were either: a) hellbent on driving him nuts during lectures, or b) trying to singe his beloved Loveless or random points on his person by rogue spells in the training room. Also, he didn’t have to go through his vocal cord training regime in order to successfully make it through the numerous, seemingly unending shouting matches, which were otherwise known as Directors meetings.

No, he didn’t have to do any of the above because he’d taken the day off.

“Thank Goddess.” Genesis couldn’t sound anymore relieved as he muttered to no one and nothing in particular. 

Still, that didn’t mean his day was going to be any less busy. If the redheaded Commander was being honest, the task he’d set ahead of himself was as demanding as his usual duties, if not more. 

Because,  _ Finally!  _

Without warning, his sleepy mind surprisingly began churning, coming up with various methods and tactics that he could even the scales a bit. After all, it was about time that his two  _ dear _ colleagues returned from the front lines to take over their own duties and responsibilities which had fallen on Genesis’ shoulders during their absence. In all honesty, the First Class Soldier didn’t really mind tag teaming with Lazard and other members of the Board who had-at least-an ounce of brain cells, nor did he mind the times he got to drill the men ‘til they were fit to drop. But by goddess did he mind the paperwork and looking after Angeal’s harebrained proteges; and by goddess did he want to gut both of his comrades!

His azure eyes had already flown open of their own accord while he’d been busy ruminating on his weapon of choice and the various techniques he could implement in order to skewer his two  _ dear _ friends, which signified that he couldn’t dawdle in his king-sized bed under the pretense of sleepiness any longer.

His bloodthirsty thoughts drizzled out of his mind by the time he got out of the shower, and with the telly humming the morning news in the background, they’d taken a turn into the teethrottingly sentimental. Gazing blankly at the screen over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee, Genesis acknowledged that he had actually really missed them, both of them, equally. It was easy to succumb to the comforting thought that both of his best friends were simply indomitable, and that no matter what happened, they’d both come back safe and sound, always. But it couldn’t be any further from the truth, and deep down, the cerulean-eyed Commander knew it to be true. After all, it was among the very first lessons they’d learned: there is always someone better than you. Thankfully, due to their brilliant strategies and Sephiroth’s leadership, and no thanks to President Shinra’s avarice and recklessness, the worst had yet to come to pass, and the redhead couldn’t be any more grateful. The morbid twist of his train of thoughts aside, life had been going on in both HQ and the metropolis sprawling around it as it always did, but without his only best friends around, it somehow felt more empty than usual. His Loveless quotes would be lost on others, not that he felt inclined to tease them in the first place; there was no one to fool around with in the VR room; there was no Angeal who long-sufferingly enabled him by bringing him mug after mug of coffee, no Sephiroth to pester in the younger man’s office by lounging in his favorite armchair and pushing his buttons by engaging in debates of various kinds.

Not for long though. They were all easy to remedy, starting with a really  _ nice _ sparring session– 

Er…  _ a really nice welcome back party.  _ Yes. A really nice sparring session after an equally nice welcome back party. That was it. That was the plan, and the reason why he’d taken the day off in the first place.

_ “After a decisive victory against Wutai–” _

Turning the telly off, Genesis started going through his mental to-do list. He’d already asked those in charge of patrolling the helipad, the Soldier Floor, and the Residentials to inform him whenever Sephiroth and Angeal arrived. They’d been scheduled to land approximately in the evening, but to pull off what he had in mind, the redhead had decided to go the extra mile, or  _ two: _

Standing in the foyer of Angeal’s living quarters, the auburn-haired First was admiring his handiwork in decorating the place. A handmade ‘Welcome Home’ banner was strung up near the far wall, several blue balloons of different shapes and shades were either suspended in the air or lay haphazardly here and there. His sable-haired childhood playmate preferred everything with as little fanfare as possible, much to Genesis’ dismay; so, even though it looked lackluster in his eyes, the older Commander tried his damnedest not to make it up to par with his standards. His work was far from finished here, however; he had to repeat the same process, more or less, in Sephiroth’s apartment before he could commence the next phase of his plan, or  _ plans: _

Ideally, the azure-eyed First preferred to do his own grocery shopping whenever the fancy struck him to go all out in his culinary adventures; but, even with the aid of a foolproof disguise, it was a rabbit hole he wasn’t particularly keen on going down today, simply because he didn’t have the luxury of time. And especially since he was planning to cook for each of his best friends separately, were he to mess something up, he might be unable to throw something together before their imminent arrival. 

To make the matters worse, the options he had in mind for the delicious part of the  _ festivities _ were numerous, and that made the decision all the more difficult. The Wutain cuisine, despite being quite exotic and tasty, was already off the table. So were any meals that could be remotely associated with canteen food. The redheaded First was certain that his comrades were already sick of those. Also, the level of Genesis’ culinary skills automatically crossed out some of the meals, and so did the sable-haired Commander’s known tastes. It was easier to make something for his childhood friend because he knew Angeal inside and out. 

But Sephiroth was a wholly different story; mostly because they had yet to figure out the General’s favorites. So far, all their attempts in all lifestyle aspects had been in the vein of broadening the horizon of the younger man’s experiences. There was also the possibility that Hojo would summon the green-eyed Soldier to the labs as soon as he set foot inside the building, which brought the redhead to his current predicament.

Due to the lack of anything that could serve as the silver-haired First’s comfort food, he’d decided to try preparing multiple meals. The amount of cooking and chopping he’d inadvertently set ahead of himself was enough to give him a debilitating headache. His only comfort was the impeccable kitchen of Sephiroth’s living quarters. If Genesis had been a lesser man, he’d have definitely groaned from sheer delight. 

Ebony quartz countertops, stainless steel appliances and matching silver detailing…it was all complimented by the precise placement of lights which in turn created the perfect ambience. It was almost enough to make him stop right then and there, and lie across the island to feel the cool of the stone against his heated skin. The thoughts of gutting his homebound colleagues resurfaced as his cerulean gaze flitted to the knife block, and the mental image of blood–the vivid contrast of carmine splattered against pristine onyx–made resisting the urge to touch the problem in his pants all the more painful.

A sigh escaped the part of his lips.

A shame really that it wasn’t his own kitchen; not that it being Sephiroth’s apartment was the reason he wasn’t already naked. Being caught in the act of pleasuring himself or not having a stitch on while cooking weren’t of any concern either. It wasn’t like his comrades hadn’t already seen his nude body. It was simply that partying in his birthday suit wasn’t on the agenda, and a brief glance at his dormant PHS showed him that his time was drawing to a close. 

Behind him the oven dinged to announce that one of his pizzas was finished. Its counterpart was sitting behind the note sticking to the mirror finish of the freezer door, just in case the General wanted to indulge in homemade ‘junk food’ later on. With half of the lasagna, chicken curry and rice, and apple pie he’d made for Angeal perched on the counter next to his cutting board, the only task that remained was tossing all the vegetables he had chopped together into a bowl, dressing the salad, and done!

———5 hours later———

Glassy azure irises were staring blankly at the TV screen before trekking languidly to his phone which was lying discarded–in the aftermath of being thrown away in a fit of frustration–on the furthest seat from him. Still no news from the Soldiers who were on night duty, and Genesis could no longer keep the exhaustion that had been creeping up on him at bay. 

Angeal and Sephiroth were late.

They were late to the point that the auburn-haired First had had ample time to safely make a trip down to the training room and slash it to pieces without being fashionably late to his own party. Taking a detour on his way to Sephiroth’s quarters, he’d showered at Angeal’s place, changed, and lingered there for as long as he could coexist in the same  _ habitat  _ as the younger man’s numerous vegetation. Leaving a letter for his childhood friend to inform him of the meals in his fridge and his whereabouts, he’d decided to devour his fill of the chicken curry and lasagna he’d made before raiding the silver-haired man’s liquor stash as revenge.

Because Genesis hated waiting. 

And the party he’d so elaborately put together was more or less unofficially cancelled.

Draining the bottle of vintage wine he’d found, the redhead stretched where he’d been lounging for the entirety of the past couple or so hours before settling in for the night. 

Now, again if someone ever claimed that everyone in the Shinra headquarters knew that Commander Rhapsodos was a heavy sleeper, they wouldn’t be exaggerating. Which was exactly why when his phone decided to go off with numerous message notifications at an ungodly early hour he didn’t notice at all. Nor did he hear two sets of footfalls, one hushed and the other heavier, approaching the door outside in the corridor.

However, when the keycard reader beeped in recognition, Genesis stirred, waking up more fully when the hinge mechanism whirred. Bleary cerulean eyes slowly opened in order to track the source of the familiar acoustic, their owner raising himself on his elbows just in time to see the aperture turn. 

The smile that slowly but surely stretched over his lips lit up the depths of twin cerulean lakes as he greeted his comrades who were loitering just beyond the threshold.

“Welcome home.”


End file.
